Death of A Showrunner
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This story starts after Aunt Theresa and before Dressed to Kill. Was the showrunner killed by an angry fan, a cast member or someone else? The players may seem strangely familiar. This is mostly for fun, although the murder is serious. It is AU in that it follows my other stories. As usual, I own nothing, but I really do love AWM. Follow me on Twitter @CheerfulChemist
1. Chapter 1

Death of a Showrunner

Chapter 1

Kate was just waking up as Rick brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Are you going to the precinct today?" he asked.

"I'm on call." Kate told him.

Rick slipped a finger under the edge of her sleep shirt. "What if you turned off your phone?"

"Do you want to write a story for Captain Gates explaining why my phone was off?" Kate asked

"Oooh, that could be fun. How about if the loft is transported to an alternate dimension where they never developed cell technology and everyone uses rotary phones. We could..." Kate's look stilled Rick in mid-sentence. He tried again. "It's not ringing now."

Kate turned to him, running a finger down the new stubble on his jaw, "No, it's not."

With the possibility of having to stop at any time hanging over their heads, neither Rick nor Kate wanted to go slowly. Coming together was almost a crash of lips, bypassing the gentle sweetness of the first touch. Barriers were quickly pushed aside to reach rapidly heating skin. They used what love had taught them. Fully in tune, each touch, each caress, of places they both knew so well brought them closer. The pulses came from the center of two joined as one, with fingers of sensation reaching through them, and they clung together against the outward push of the waves.

The intuition of urgency had not been misplaced. Kate's breathing had not quite returned to normal when her phone pealed. She listened for a moment before telling Ryan that she and Castle would be right there. "It's right across the street," she said in answer to Rick's uplifted brow. They showered and dressed quickly, leaving the loft with Rick looking longingly over his shoulder at the unused coffee maker.

* * *

The body, a short man with a graying beard, lay slumped over a laptop. "I know this place," Castle said. "These are the writers I saw through the binoculars when my knee was broken and you pulled that epic scam on me. There's a woman living here too."

"There is a woman," Esposito confirmed as he approached Beckett. "She found the body. Our vic is Luke Spinelli. He's the showrunner for Next Chapter, that chick flick show that masquerades as a procedural. The woman is Greta Jorgensen, writing partner and wife. She's in the next room with Ryan and Anne Hastings. Hastings is trying to calm her down."

Perlmutter looked up from examining the body and nodded, "Detective Beckett, tag-along fiance Castle."

"Always nice to see you too, Perlmutter," Castle greeted him."

"What have you got?" Beckett asked.

"Someone came up behind Mr. Spinelli here and stabbed him in the back. The knife went right through the heart. His heart stopped instantly, so there wasn't that much blood. No signs of a struggle. No defensive wounds."

"So he was taken by surprise?" Castle asked.

"I believe that's what I just said, Mr. Castle," Perlmutter snorted.

"Time of death?" Beckett asked.

"Sometime last night," Perlmutter told her. "I'll know better when I get him back to the lab.

"No fingerprints on the murder weapon and no signs of a break in," Esposito added. "The lock has a key pad. Whoever did this knew or guessed the combination."

"Get CSU to sweep the place and have the weapon checked for DNA," Beckett said. "Maybe we got lucky and the perp cut himself. "

"Or herself," Castle added.

Beckett and Castle joined Ryan and Hastings with Greta in the bedroom. Greta sat on the bed. Her eyes were red rimmed and her face tear-stained. Hastings sat beside her. Beckett crouched down in front of Greta. "Ms. Jorgensen, I'm so sorry for your loss. I know it's rough, but we have to ask you questions now. The faster we get answers, the more likely it is that we can catch whoever did this."

"I understand," Greta told her. "I write murder mysteries. Police procedure is part of my research."

Castle started to open his mouth, but Ryan put a hand on his arm and shook his head. Beckett continued. "Who knows the code for your door?"

"Luke and I do and I have a daughter away at college who does, but someone could have figured it out. It's the badge number of one of the leads on our show. One of the writers got it wrong in one episode and it caused a mini-firestorm among the fans, so we used the right number as our code as a reminder.

"Can you tell me how you found you husband?" Beckett asked.

"I was coming home from a workshop I did in Texas for aspiring writers. I came home and I saw Luke. At first I thought he had fallen asleep writing. That happens to both of us, but then I saw the blood and the knife on the floor. I tried to wake him, but he was cold. Then I called 911."

"Ms Jorgensen," Beckett asked, "can you think of anyone who would want to harm your husband?"

"There has been something going on, Detective. First you have to understand that most of the fans of Next Chapter are great. They helped keep the show on the air the first couple of seasons and they support our charities. But a few of them are sick. Recently Luke and I gave a private seminar in which we showed a fifteen second clip that had been cut from a love scene. We cut stuff every day. There's more on the cutting room floor than goes into the shows. But some of the fans just went crazy! They demanded to see the scene. Luke and I started getting death threats. We turned them over to the FBI."

* * *

Beckett and Castle filled in the murder board at the 12th. "Yo!" Esposito called. "I checked out Greta's alibi. She was in Texas and she flew in early this morning. There's no way she could have done it. Spinelli and Jorgensen may have been into some strange stuff though. We found handcuffs and duct tape in the apartment."

"That's not so strange," Castle said. "They might just have been testing out what it was like to be handcuffed or taped to a chair. I had Alexis tape me to a chair to see how Nikki Heat could get out of it for one of my books."

"Dude!" Esposito told him. "that doesn't make it any less strange."

Beckett quickly smothered a smile. "I contacted the FBI about the death threats," she told Esposito. "They're supposed to be sending someone over to liaise."

"And they did," Will Sorenson said as he came to meet Beckett at the board.

Castle stiffened and unconsciously put an arm around Beckett. "Sorenson, I thought you were in Europe," he said.

"I came back," Sorenson said.

"Yeah, like a bad penny," Castle muttered under his breath.

'Hi, Kate," Sorenson continued with a smile. "Relax Castle. I read that you two are engaged. I don't hit on engaged women. Anyway," he said extending a hand for Castle to shake, "congratulations. I have no idea why she's marrying you, but congratulations."

Beckett cleared her throat loudly. "Tell me about the death threats."

"We checked them out," Will told her. "we were able to discount most of them, but there were a couple we were still working on. I brought you the file." Sorenson handed Beckett a USB drive.

Ryan yelled across the room. "Hey Beckett, got a prelim on the knife, no usable DNA."

"Yeah," Beckett said. "We couldn't have gotten that lucky. Ryan, you and Esposito look into the cast and crew from Next Chapter. Castle and I will look into the crazed fans."

Beckett took the USB drive to the tech room where she, Castle and Sorenson could all see it on a large screen. Many of the threats came from fans who were thousands of miles from New York. There were two, one from New Jersey and one from Connecticut, who had been caught trying to force their way into the studio. We're not going to be able to talk to them until tomorrow," Beckett said. "Let's knock off for the night."

* * *

"Beckett," Castle said on the way back to the loft. "We should watch some episodes of Next Chapter. We might see something useful."

"Fine, Castle,"Beckett agreed, "as long as by useful you don't mean staring at some actress' legs."

"Beckett," Castle said, "you wound me. You know the only legs I stare at are yours. Of course if you want to take your pants off before we watch, that wouldn't hurt."

* * *

Rick and Kate lounged on the couch in front of the screen with Kate's bare legs across Rick's lap and a large bowl of popcorn within easy reach. "Look at him," Rick said, pointing at the lead, Jean-Luc St. Jacques, "mugging at the camera, overacting, where did they get that guy? His hair is wiggling. He probably has a rug. I can't believe anyone would worry about 15 seconds of him with his shirt open."

"Oh I don't know," Kate mused. "I think he has a very expressive face. He's kind of sexy, the hair looks real to me and those eyes are incredible. But Tasha Olesky's character, she's completely unbelievable. They might as well give her a tiara and a magic lasso. No cop was ever like that."

Rick stared down at the legs rapidly raising his temperature and had no thoughts of Tasha Olesky. "So," he murmured, "how about if you give me a demonstration of how a real cop does things?"

"I think," Kate purred, pulling Rick's face toward her lips, "I think I can manage that."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Rick, are you up?" Kate asked.

Rick grudgingly opened his eyes. "Do I have to be?"

"What's the matter? You usually love road trips. We have two of them today."

"But with Sorenson?" Rick whined. "it'll take all the fun out of them."

Kate ran a finger down the center of Rick's chest. "We can have some fun now."

"What did you have in mind?"

"You could be Jean-Luc St. Jacques as Masters and I could be Tasha Olesky as Lovett."

"No way!" Rick protested. "Whenever Masters and Lovett are trying to make out, they get interrupted. I'd rather be me."

Kate brushed errant strands from Rick's forehead. "Then I'll have to be me."

Holding Rick's face in her hands, Kate rubbed his nose with her own, her lips just brushing his. Rick answered her kiss gently, fingers twining in her hair. The heat came slowly as they tasted and touched. Love flowed through Kate's fingertips with each caress and was answered by Rick's embrace. The joining was joyful, leaving them entwined in smiling contentment.

* * *

Castle grabbed for the handle of the passenger seat. "Why does he get the front seat?" Sorenson asked Beckett. "He's not even a cop."

Castle fixed Sorenson with a glare. "My fiancee, my shotgun."

The forty-five minute drive to Connecticut was uneventful, despite Sorenson fuming in the back seat. Beckett easily found the home of Paisley O'Shea, a small neat house in a quiet suburb. From the outside it looked no different from any of the others on the street. Paisley looked thunderstruck when she saw Castle as she opened the door, but let out a breath as she looked at him for a moment. "Has anyone ever told you you look a little like Jean-Luc St. Jacques?" she asked.

"Actually they usually think I look like Jason Bateman," Castle started to explain as Beckett interrupted.

"Miss O'Shea, I'm Detective Kate Beckett of the NYPD, this is Special Agent Sorenson and Richard Castle. We're here to talk to you about Luke Spinelli."

Paisley's mouth dropped open. "Luke Spinelli from Next Chapter? I've never met him. I met Jean-Luc at a fan expo. He signed my arm. See, I had it tattooed." Paisley rolled up her sleeve proudly. But I've never met Luke. I have a few words I'd say to him If I did."

"It's a little late for that," Beckett told her.

"Why?" Paisley asked.

"He's dead," Castle said. "He was murdered."

Tears sprang to Paisley's eyes. "Oh no! It can't be. He's the creator! What will happen to the show?"

"Miss O'Shea," Beckett said, as gently as she could, if you let us come in we have some questions."

Paisley sniffled and indicated with an arm that the group should enter the house. Castle caught Beckett casting a lustful glance at an idealized portrait of Jean-Luc St. Jacques dressed as Captain Summers from Rebel Ship. "We could hire that guy to paint one of those of me, or maybe of us. I could wear my space cowboy outfit and you could dress like Lt. Chloe," he whispered.

"Sure Castle," Beckett replied in his ear. "We could use it as our wedding portrait. I'll wear a veil and you can use dress suspenders." Castle looked thoughtful for the moment before Beckett began questioning Paisley. "Miss O'Shea, you sent death threats to Luke Spinelli. Why?"

Paisley looked confused. "What?" Oh, about the clip? I didn't mean it. I was upset. I wanted to see Masters and Lovett, well you know. But I watched the episode of Rebel Ship where Captain Summers had pretty much everything off a couple of times and I got over it. I really am more of a Jacquista than a Chap."

"A what?" Castle asked.

"A Jacquista, a fan of Jean-Luc St. Jacques. Fans of Tasha Olesky are called Tashaholics and fans of Next Chapter are called Chaps. Some fans are all three."

"You were caught trying to sneak into Dryden studios," Sorenson put in.

"I was trying to take behind the scenes photos. Do you know how many followers you can pick up on Twitter doing that? It didn't matter. They caught me before I got near the set."

"Miss O'Shea," Beckett asked, "where were you Friday night?"

"Here. There was a Rebel Ship marathon on and Jacquista's were live tweeting it. You could look at my time line. I was tweeting most of the night."

"What's your handle on Twitter?" Castle asked.

"PaisleySaintJacques," she told him as he pulled out his phone. Castle pulled up the archive of Paisley's time line which showed hours of commentary on Rebel Ship and showed it to Beckett."

"Miss O'Shea," Sorenson said, "whether you meant it or not, making death threats is a Federal crime. Regardless of the outcome of the murder investigation, the FBI may be filing charges."

Paisley O'Shea was left looking pale and shaken.

"Castle," Beckett said as she began the long drive to New Jersey, "that time line could have been faked. Anyone could have logged on as Paisley, or she could have tweeted from New York. She probably knows all the Rebel Ship Episodes by heart. We'll have to get tech to check it out."

"I know," Castle agreed. "I've had people masquerade as me on Twitter, but I don't think she did it. She seemed genuinely sad that Spinelli was killed."

"We'll find out," Beckett told him.

* * *

Briana Dunkwich lived in Princeton New Jersey not far from the University, at which she was a junior. She shared quarters with four other students, but had a room of her own, hung with multiple photographs of Tasha Olesky with Jean-Luc St. Jacques. "What's this about?" she asked.

"You sent a death threat to Luke Spinelli," Sorenson told her. "Did you know that's a Federal crime?"

"No!" Briana exclaimed. "I was just tweeting! So many of us were mad. First they deleted a scene and wouldn't release it and then there were no kisses for seven episodes. Seven episodes! We just wanted to see more Mavett."

"Mavett?" Castle asked.

"From Next Chapter, Masters and Lovett. I just wanted Luke to show more love scenes. I didn't want him dead."

"Someone did," Beckett told her.

"What do you mean?" Briana asked.

"Luke Spinelli is dead," Beckett answered.

"Wow, how awful," Briana said. "Maybe I can start a campaign to send condolences to Greta."

"Where were you Friday night?" Beckett asked.

"The library," Briana told her. "there are surveillance cameras. You can check."

"I will Beckett," told her. "You tried to sneak into Dryden studios. Why?"

"There were rumors that Jean-Luc and Tasha weren't getting along. I didn't believe them. I wanted to see them working together, but I didn't even get close."

"Stay close to home now," Sorenson warned. "There may be Federal charges pending."

"Hey," Briana called after them as they left, "if you see Greta, tell her the fans love her!"

* * *

Kate lounged on the couch leaning against Rick who was massaging the kinks out of her shoulders after a long day of driving. "I think Sorenson was creeped out by the fans," Kate said. "What about you?"

"Are you kidding? You are talking to the man who had a life sized Boba Fett in his bathroom. I have a website and half a million followers on Twitter. A few of them say or do scary things, but I love most of my fans, especially the one on the couch with me. How about you?"

"Well you know about me and Nebula Nine and Temptation Lane and you know I wouldn't apologize for either of those for a second. Fandom can be a great place to find friends or even a second family. But right now I'm concentrating on being one kind of fan."

"What kind?" Castle asked.

"A Castillion."

A/N If you want to find out what happened to Boba Fett, read my oneshot Blackout.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kate opened her eyes to see the Castle sapphire looking down at her. "Hi," Rick said. "How's my number one fan this morning?"

"She wants some time with her idol."

"You know I let fans hang with me for charity. What are you willing to bid?"

"How about this?" Kate asked, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"That won't get you much time, care to bid again?"

Plunging her fingers into Rick's hair, Kate's next kiss was anything but a peck.

"How about that?" Kate asked.

"You win the auction," Rick murmured, taking Kate in his arms.

Kate had been playful, but passion rose quickly. They came together not as fans, but as lovers finding fulfillment together. As the heat slowly receded, Kate snuggled contentedly against Rick's chest. "Am I still your number one fan?' Kate asked.

"I know I'm yours," Rick told her.

* * *

Beckett updated the murder board with the latest information from Perlmutter. The murder had taken place between ten and midnight. Ryan was already checking the video surveillance from the library at Princeton to confirm Briana Dunkwich's alibi and Tori Ellis was tracing the origin of Paisley O'Shea's Twitter timeline.

"I've been digging into Jean-Luc St. Jacques," Ryan said, walking toward the board. "I haven't found anything solid, but there have been rumors that he's been unhappy that the show was putting too much emphasis on Tasha Olesky's story line and had some kind of a melt down."

"Beckett," Castle said, "you know the all kinds of rumors come out about celebrities all the time. They've printed plenty of them about me. That doesn't make them true."

"I know, Castle," Beckett agreed, "but we need to talk to him anyway."

* * *

Beckett and Castle met with Jean-Luc St. Jacques in his trailer at Dryden Studios. "I know what they've been printing about me and the show," he told them. "They make it up. I had no problems with Luke and I don't have any with Tasha either. We're a family here, a family that is grieving."

"Mr. St. Jacques," Beckett asked, "where were you between ten and midnight on Friday night?"

Jean-Luc smiled. "I was here, shooting. It was one of what we call a Friturday. We were shooting until six A.M.. You can check with the crew."

The door of the trailer opened. "Sweetheart," came a voice through the opening, "they're shooting with George and Gomez, I thought we might have some time …." Tasha Olesky stopped short when she saw Beckett and Castle.

"Come in Tash," Jean-Luc said. "Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle, I'd like you to meet Tasha Olesky, my wife."

"What!" Castle exclaimed. "All the info out there says you two don't even like each other."

"Mr. Castle," Jean-Luc said. "I would think you'd know that you can't believe everything that you read. Before you and Detective Beckett announced your engagement, didn't they have you playing footsie with your ex?"

"They did," Beckett interjected, an edge to her voice.

"From the fact that Detective Beckett hasn't blown away any part of your anatomy, Mr. Castle, I take it that it wasn't true."

Castle unconsciously covered himself. "You take it correctly."

"The truth," Jean-Luc told them, "is that Tasha and I struck sparks at her audition. You could see them on her screen test. We got married after we finished the first season and frankly we didn't expect to have a second one. Before this show, I hadn't done very well with renewals. But the fans liked the chemistry on the screen and kept Next Chapter alive. The network, not Luke, thought it would be better to keep the marriage under wraps and let the female fans have their fantasies. The show is popular and the tabloids wanted scandal. When they couldn't find any on the set, they invented it. Any other burning questions?"

"Yeah," Castle said, "is that a rug?"

Tasha gave a hearty laugh, plunging her fingers into Jean-Luc's hair and giving a gentle tug. "No, Mr. Castle, it isn't."

"Wow!" Castle exclaimed as he and Beckett drove back to the 12th. "We kept secrets, but Tasha and Jean-Luc, they can really keep a secret."

"They don't work in a room full of detectives," Beckett replied, "at least not real detectives."

* * *

Beckett perused a report from CSU. There wasn't much that was useful, no prints or DNA. They had found some dirt typical of an area in Connecticut, the same area Paisley O'Shea lived in. Finding Tori Ellis in tech, Beckett inquired as to results of her trace on Paisley's tweets during the kill zone. The tweets had come from a computer with an I.D. belonging to Paisley, but the I.P. address did not determine the location. Moreover, she had stopped tweeting for an hour during the kill zone.

Accompanied by Sorenson, driving his assigned FBI black SUV, Beckett and Castle went to pick up Paisley O'Shea. Beckett also had a warrant to retrieve Paisley's shoes and clothing. Paisley was at her job as a customer service representative. Her tiny cubicle was decorated in Jean-Luc St. Jacques. She was cuffed and loaded into Sorenson's SUV as Beckett and Castle continued with some local police to execute the warrant. Beckett bagged several pair of shoes for CSU to match with the sample from the Spinelli apartment.

Beckett turned her evidence over to CSU to await the damning analysis. Paisley O'Shea weepingly protested her innocence and was relegated to holding to await her attorney. Sorenson smirked as she was placed in her cell. "Kate, you and writer monkey want to go for a cold one?" Sorenson asked.

Beckett fixed Sorenson with her best glare and hooked her arm through Castle's. "No thanks Special Agent Sorenson, my fiance and I are heading home."

* * *

Rick stretched out on the couch with his head in Beckett's lap. "Sorry it's Paisley?" she asked. "I got the feeling you kind of liked her."

"I hate giving Sorenson a win. Besides, it may not be Paisley," Rick said,"the results aren't back from CSU yet."

Kate stroked his hair. "We'll find out tomorrow. What can I do now to make you feel better?"

Rick cupped her cheek with his hand and brought her lips to his. "Just what you're doing."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Fingers of frost painted the windows of the loft and black ice formed on the streets as the temperature oscillated between above and below freezing. Screeching brakes sounded followed by the crunch of metal. Kate ran to the window, where she could see that four cars had slid into each other. Grabbing her phone she called it in and began to snatch up clothes that had been discarded the night before.

Rick sat up in bed, pushing the hair out of his face and rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"A big accident just happened down there," Kate told him, indicating the street below the loft. "I'm going to see if they need any help."

"I'll go with you," Rick said, reaching for his t shirt.

Uniformed police arrived almost immediately after Kate and Rick did. No one seemed to be seriously injured, but the drivers were shaken, especially a mother with a baby who had been in a safety seat. The baby was crying loudly while the mother was trying to give her account to an officer. Rick offered to hold the baby while the mother got herself together. Kate smiled as the child quieted in Rick's arms. "You do have a touch," she said.

"It's easy when we're not trying desperately to get some sleep," Rick told her. "I think I'm the daytime baby whisperer. Maybe when our kids are born we'll get a nanny for the night shift," Rick mused.

Rick and Kate looked at each other and simultaneously shook their heads. "Nah!"

The baby was calm and the officers at the scene had things under control, so Rick and Kate returned to the loft. Stripping off their grungy clothes, the shower beckoned. Rick turned on both nozzles full blast. The warmth of the water was comforting after the dampness that made the cold air more penetrating. Rick and Kate soaped each other slowly, the spicy scent of shower gel and the sweet tang of cherry shampoo mixing with the swirling steam. Rick combed his fingers through Kate's hair as he rinsed it. "You have such a dazzling array of hairstyles," he said, "but I think I'll always love this best, wet under my fingers."

"You're the only one who's going to get it that way," Kate assured him, "and I'm the only one who's going to get you this way," she said running her fingertips over the damp skin of his broad chest.

"You're the only one I need," Rick told her, bringing her to him.

The water streamed over them as the tide grew within, lapping softly and first, then growing to waves that slammed them against each other until the final crest. Rick held Kate softly against him and drew the sweet scent into his lungs as he laid a gentle kiss on the soaked strands.

* * *

"Yo!" Esposito called as Beckett and Castle stepped off the elevator. "The report just came in from CSU. The soil from O'Shea's shoes doesn't match the soil found at the scene."

"We're going to have to cut her loose," Beckett said.

"Oooh, can I be the one to tell Sorenson?" Castle asked.

"Don't be so happy, Castle," Beckett replied. "It means that we don't have a suspect. We're pretty much back at square one."

"Not really," Castle said. "We know that the killer is from Connecticut, somewhere in the same area where Paisley lives. We can check the traffic cams around the murder scene during the kill zone for Connecticut plates and see who has a connection to Luke Spinelli."

"Don't make it sound so easy, Castle. A lot of people commute to New York from Connecticut. That's a lot on man hours. Are you willing to help?"

"On one condition," Castle told her.

"What?"

"You let me call Sorenson."

Beckett rolled her eyes, looked around before giving Castle a little smack on his well shaped behind, and nodded.

Beckett, Castle, Ryan, and Esposito slogged through the video footage. It was slow going. They had no idea what type of car they were looking for and in many cases it took multiple angles to identify the numbers on license plates. The area around the loft had popular destinations and there was a surprising amount of traffic in the area, even at that time of night. Checking the backgrounds of the owners of the plates was also a considerable task.

After most of a day's work, there were three possible suspects: Bob Robbins, Harmon Hoban, and Barry Porthos. All of the suspects worked in the city.

Bob Robbins sweated as he gazed at Kate Beckett and a slit-eyed Castle. Robbins seemed not so much afraid as turned on. Beckett zipped her leather jacket up to the middle of her neck and glared. "Is it too hot in here for you Robbins?" she asked.

Robbins gulped. "It's fine. What's all this about?"

"Luke Spinelli was found dead Saturday morning."

"I know. It was on the news. I was sorry to hear about it. Luke was very talented, but what does that have to do with me?"

"Your car was caught on video in the area at the time of the murder." Beckett told him.

"And Luke's talent did you out of writing a major motion picture," Castle added. "That had to sting."

"Yeah, that hurt," Robbins agreed, "but Luke deserved it. I respected him for it, and Greta too. They wrote it together."

"There's more Mr. Robbins," Beckett told him. "We have forensic evidence showing that the killer came from Connecticut, the same area of Connecticut where you live."

"That's your problem, Detective," Robbins told her. "I don't live in the house in Connecticut, my soon to be ex-wife does. I live with my boyfriend in the city. I just haven't changed the plates on my car yet. I'd just renewed them when I came out and my wife and I split. If you want to cite me for a traffic violation, go ahead and do it and I'll be on my way."

Beckett let Robbins sit in the box while she checked his story. Finally she told him he was free to go. "Just one more question, Mr Robbins," Beckett said, "why did you look at me as if I turned you on?"

"I wasn't looking at you, Detective, I was looking at Mr. Castle."

Beckett waved her left hand in front of Robbins' face. "Sorry, he's not your type."

"A man can fantasize, Detective," Robbins replied. "I hope your marriage works out better than mine did."

* * *

Rick looked at Kate with amusement as she sliced tomatoes while he tore the lettuce for a salad. "So Bob Robbins has a crush on me?"

"He probably has the picture from your book jackets framed," Kate teased.

"Why not?" Rick asked. "I do."

"I know how much you love looking at your ruggedly handsome face," Kate jibed.

"It's true," Rick agreed. "But," he whispered softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, "I love looking at yours more.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The series of bumps ended with a banging of metal. Kate sat straight up in bed shaking Rick's shoulder. "What is that?"

Rick stretched sleepily. "It's the sound the washer makes when it's overloaded," he muttered, eyes still closed.

Kate shook his shoulder again. "So who's running the washer?"

Rick slowly opened his eyes. "I'll go see."

Alexis stood in front of the washing machine pulling out wet clothes, wringing them out and putting them in her basket. Rivulets of water from the basket crept across the floor. She turned to face her father with an embarrassed look. "The machines in my building are out," she explained. "I thought I could do my clothes in one load and be out of here before you and Kate got up. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Rick told her. "I've done more than my share of washer stuffing, especially when you were in diapers."

Alexis gave a little wince at the image. "I'll clean this up," she told him, reaching into a cupboard for a mop.

"OK," Rick said, heading back to the bedroom. "Student laundry emergency," he reported at Kate's questioning look. There was a soft whirr as Alexis started the washer again.

"You know," Rick told Kate, "if we try to get a shower while she's running that thing, we'll either get scalded or freeze."

"Why don't we do a bath?" Kate suggested. "It's early. We have time and we can adjust the temperature as it fills."

The oversized Jacuzzi tub always reminded Kate of a scene from "Pretty Woman." It had more than enough room for the two of them as long as they didn't try to stretch out their legs. Rick was all right with bubbles as long as the scent was spicy enough not to seem girly. "What are you playing with?" Kate asked as Rick dunked a plastic toy in the water.

"It's my whale," he answered, "see, it's got a spout." Bubbly water splashed in Kate's face.

"You know I have to get you back," she warned, scooping up bubbles in her hands and hurling them at Rick.

"Ow!" Rick exclaimed.

"Ow from bubbles?" Kate asked skeptically.

"No ow, I've got soap in my eyes and it stings."

Kate wet a washcloth under the tap. "Let me see." Rick slipped a hand behind her neck as she leaned in, pulling her towards him for a kiss. The water lapped around them as she returned it, antics forgotten. They moved to the steady thrum of the jets of water tingling on their skins, until as an internal surge moved through them, water surged to the floor. Kate lay in his arms as Rick looked over the edge of the tub with a crooked grin. "I guess Alexis won't be the only one using the mop today."

* * *

Harman Hoban and Barry Porthos both worked at Bailey Studios. Hoban was the showrunner for Dig up the Truth, a show combining a sexy scientist with a government agent. Barry played the government agent. Unlike Next Chapter, Dig Up the Truth was a victim of falling ratings. It had been renewed for another season, but the general opinion in the press was that the coming season would probably be its last. Hoban would be on his way out even sooner, with a new showrunner taking the helm.

Beckett and Castle met with the mild looking Harmon Hoban in his office. "Mr. Hoban," Beckett asked, "were you acquainted with Luke Spinelli?"

"We ran in some of the same circles, did some of the same cons," Hoban answered. "I didn't know him well."

"There's been some discussion in the press that the reason you're off Dig Up the Truth is that it isn't performing as well as Next Chapter," Castle said.

Hoban closed his eyes and shook his head. "Mr. Castle, as I'm sure you're aware, the press frequently doesn't know what it's talking about. The reason I'm leaving the show is that I'm going to helm another one. It has nothing to do with Next Chapter. I was really sorry to hear of Luke Spinelli's passing, but it has nothing to do with Dig Up the Truth or me."

"Mr Hoban," Beckett put in, "I have questions that have nothing to do with the press. Your car was in the area of the murder scene Friday night. What were you doing there?"

"Friday night? I met some actors from my new show at a club. I can give you their names."

"I'll need them," Beckett told him. "Do you live in Connecticut Mr. Hoban?"

"I have a home in Connecticut and an apartment in the city." Hoban answered.

"When were you last in Connecticut?" Beckett continued.

"Sunday," Hoban replied exasperatedly. "I usually stay in the city during the week while we're shooting. What difference does it make, Detective?"

Beckett ignored the question. "Were you in the city all of last week, Mr. Hoban?"

"No," I was home Thursday night. It was my wife's birthday and we went out. I came back to the city Friday morning." Hoban consulted his watch. "Is there anything else Detective, I really need to be on the set."

"That's it for now," Mr. Hoban, Beckett told him. "Thank you for your time."

* * *

Barry Porthos was not in the studio that day, he was with the second unit shooting pieces of an action scene. Beckett and Castle were directed to the location, an old warehouse on the waterfront. Porthos was pacing anxiously while the crew was working on setups for the next scene. At one time he had been devastatingly handsome, but the years and fried foods had taken their toll. Eyes that had once looked sexy and brooding now looked tired and his belts with quirky buckles were a bit larger. Beckett and Castle took him to a quiet corner to talk.

"Mr. Porthos," Beckett asked. "Did you know Luke Spinelli?"

"I've never met him," Porthos answered.

"But you were critical of his show," Castle said.

"Next Chapter is the competition," Porthos told him. "Sometimes they have similar story lines. I diss them for that. It's not personal."

"Some of what you've said about Jean-Luc St. Jacques has been pretty personal," Castle opined.

"Jean-Luc and I came up in the stable of the same producer. We were up for some of the same roles. We've had a rivalry. I think Spinelli cut him more slack than he deserves. I've said so. What about it?"

Beckett continued the questioning."Mr Porthos, where were you between ten and midnight on Friday?"

"Home in bed," Porthos answered.

"In Connecticut?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps," Beckett told him, "You can explain why your car was seen in the area."

"I lent it to a friend," Porthos said.

"I'll need his name," Beckett told him.

Porthos smiled smugly. "Her name."

* * *

Rick rotated his scotch glass in his hands and lines formed between his brows. "I don't understand Barry Porthos," he said.

"Why?" Kate asked.

"He's mean." Rick answered. "I was watching some video of him at a con last summer. He went out of his way to say nasty things about Next Chapter and Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc was there too and he never said a word against Porthos. Jean-Luc spent the weekend raising money for charity. It wasn't a rivalry, it was a hose job. I don't understand people who act like that."

Kate took the scotch out of Rick's hand, put it on the coffee table, and straddled his lap. "That," she said, playfully kissing his lips and mussing his hair, "is one of the things I love about you." Kate picked up Rick's glass again and regarded it carefully.

"What are you looking at?" Rick asked.

"Ice cubes."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

With yet another winter storm, the snow blanketed New York. The silence in the loft was eerie as car traffic was almost at a halt. "I'm going to pull out my cross country skis," Rick said gazing through the window. "I could go right down the street out there."

"No skiing!" Kate commanded. "It's been less than a year since you broke your knee and we don't need you back in a wheelchair. I don't have time to put together another drama."

Rick laughed and kissed her nose. "The concern you have for my well being is touching."

"No," Kate purred, reaching under his t shirt, "I just want to touch a well being."

Rick stroked Kate's cheek. "Where would you like to touch?"

"Here," Kate whispered, stroking the fine hair on his chest. "And here," she continued, running her fingers through his hair. "And maybe here."

Rick gave a little gasp. "If you're going to do that, we're going to have to move away from the windows. Someone over there might have a pair of binoculars too." Rick swept Kate up in his arms and carried her to the bed. As she pulled off his shirt he murmured, "Now you can touch anything you want."

* * *

The 12th was neither happy nor full. Those who could, had either made it through the snowy streets or the subway, but there were still a number unoccupied desks, especially from denizens of the outer boroughs. Kate was on the phone checking alibis. She called the actors on Hoban's list. They verified that he had been at a club, but not during the entire period of the kill zone. He had arrived at about ten thirty.

Barry Porthos' wife had been unable to confirm that he had been home in bed. She and their children had been staying with her mother. His female friend, Lana Fentress, did tell Beckett that Barry had lent her his car, but with some hesitation in her voice.

"I think," Beckett told Castle as she filled in the murder board, "that Lana Fentress may have been lying. That still leaves us with two suspects, but we don't have enough to get a warrant to check for evidence on their shoes or pull their financials."

"What do you want to do?" Castle asked.

"I don't know," Beckett said.

"Barry and Jean-Luc seem to have a history together. Barry talked about being in the same producer's stable. What if," Castle proposed, "we talked to the producer. He might be able to give us some insight about what Barry has against Jean-Luc and maybe against Next Chapter and Luke Spinelli."

"Do you know who the producer is?" Beckett asked?

"Easy enough to find out," Castle said, reaching for his phone.

* * *

Beckett and Castle got lucky. Jonas Hill had been in Paris promoting a movie and had flown back to New York to catch a flight to Los Angeles. Flights out of New York had been grounded by the storm and Hill was staying at the Four Seasons. Beckett and Castle met with him there. "I'm a fan of your work, Mr. Castle, especially 'Hell Hath No Fury.'"

"Really?" Castle exclaimed in surprise. "No one read that one." He glanced at Beckett. "Well almost no one."

"I liked the imagery. I used something like it in my first series," Jonas told him.

"That's the one Barry Porthos started in, isn't it?" Castle asked.

"He did," Hill agreed.

"Wasn't Jean-Luc St. Jacques in that too?" Beckett asked.

Hill nodded. "About six years later. They didn't really work together. Barry was on a spin-off by then."

"We got the impression that Barry Porthos has some kind of a problem with Jean-Luc," Beckett said.

"You'll excuse me," Hill said, getting up to pace. "Unless I'm working, I get very antsy sitting still. If Barry has something against Jean-Luc, that may be my fault. When Barry was working on his spin-off, I had to take my best writer-producer and put him on Jean-Luc's show, Rebel Ship. I didn't have enough time to spend with all of my shows at that time and if I hadn't done it, they all would have gone down the tubes. Rebel Ship got canceled anyway, but I had to give it my best shot. Barry was furious. His show started losing ground and the network pulled the plug on it as well."

"Didn't you turn Rebel Ship into a movie?" Castle asked.

"I did," Hill agreed. "That was another part of it. "Jean-Luc was doing movies, he still does, even with Next Chapter, and Barry doesn't do as many. They actually voiced the same animated character. Jean-Luc is known for it but no one remembers that Barry did it. Barry's been doing very well with 'Dig Up the Truth', at least until recently. Some of Barry's fan's got turned off when it came out that he cheated on his wife. 'Next Chapter's' audience has grown about ten percent and 'Dig Up the Truth' is petering out."

"You pay attention to ratings for 'Next Chapter?'" Castle asked.

"Jean-Luc's a cool guy. I like hanging out with him. He's also about the kindest man I've ever known. When he's on a set, it's a happy place. If he gets some time loose from 'Next Chapter' I want to put him in a movie."

"But not Barry Porthos," Beckett asked.

Hill's silence was an assent.

* * *

"I can understand why Barry would kill Jean-Luc," Castle told Beckett as they trudged to the subway, "but I don't understand why he'd want to kill Luke Spinelli. Even if Next Chapter stops shooting, which doesn't seem to be happening, how would that hurt Jean-Luc? He could probably get a job with Jonas Hill."

"It doesn't make sense," Beckett agreed, "but Harmon Hoban doesn't have that strong a motive either. We should talk to Greta Jorgensen."

Greta was on the set of Next Chapter, having taken over her husband's duties, but she was anxious to help with the investigation. She repeated Beckett's question,"Did Luke have any problems with Barry Porthos or Harmon Hoban? I think he might have had the same problem with both of them. They had a concept for a new show, something with a retired secret agent running a security agency with an assortment of misfits and scoundrels. They were trying to lure Luke into writing it. Luke refused. He didn't want a show he didn't have control of and he thought the idea was too derivative. Hoban is upset because he's going to run a show he doesn't think will do well and Porthos thinks he's going to hit the skids when Dig Up the Truth ends. They may both be right."

"Which one of them is more upset?" Beckett asked.

Greta shook her head. "I really don't know. I wasn't in on the discussions. I know Luke was not impressed with either of them."

* * *

Rick and Kate picked up burgers and shakes to go at Remy's on their way back to the loft. Quickly shedding snowy boots and jackets they settled down in front of a John Woo movie. More than sated with imaginary bloodshed, they cuddled contently, sipping brandy spiked coffee. "Kate," Rick asked, "what would you think of a TV show based on Nikki Heat? Jean-Luc St. Jacques could play Jameson Rook and Tasha Olesky could play Nikki."

"I think they're busy on Next Chapter," Kate answered.

"How about a mini-series? They could do it on hiatus?"

Kate wrinkled her nose. "After Natalie Rhodes I don't think I can take another clone."

Rick pulled Kate close. "You're right. That was creepy." Rick kissed her softly. "There's only one you."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Still half asleep, Kate reached for her buzzing phone. "OK, tell Jenny to take care."

"What's going on?" Rick asked.

"That was Ryan," Kate replied. "Jenny and the baby are both sick and he's taking a sick day to take care of them."

"I hope it's nothing serious," Rick said as concern lined his face.

"I don't think so," Kate told him, "it sounds like they both have colds."

"That may not be serious," Rick explained, "but it can be exhausting. Babies don't blow their noses so you have to take a rubber bulb and suck the mucus out of their..." Rick stopped at the look on Kate's face. "You don't want to hear about that do you?"

"I will, and when it's time you can show me all your ruggedly handsome dad tricks, but I think we ought to get past the wedding first."

"Point taken," Rick agreed. "There are definite perks to being able to sleep through the night. It definitely gives you more energy in the morning."

"And how are we going to use all that energy?" Kate asked.

"We could go for a run," Rick suggested.

"We could do aerobics," Kate offered.

"Or yoga, or maybe this," Rick proposed, lightly kissing Kate's collarbone. "Or this," he whispered moving to her neck.

Kate framed Rick's face with her hands. "Or we could just do this." Their lips met, gently at first, as the tips of Kate's hair brushed against Rick's chest. They grew close, almost melting together. The room, the bed, retreated from consciousness as they were a universe, moving together through space. Heat flared as they came to each other, growing as the intensity of a star grows before going nova, finally forming a nebula across the sky.

* * *

"Beckett, I've been thinking," Castle said as they rode the elevator at the 12th. "If we can't get phone records for Hoban and Porthos, we can get them for Luke Spinelli."

"We could look for conversations, and the length of conversations between Luke and Porthos or Luke and Hoban," Beckett continued. "We can look for patterns." Beckett gave Castle a quick kiss before the elevator opened.

Beckett requested the Spinelli phone records as soon as she reached her desk and caught up on her paperwork until they arrived. "Hmm," Castle said as he and Beckett perused the calls to and from Luke's cell. "There are a couple of Connecticut numbers here that don't match either Hoban or Porthos. There were a lot of calls and some pretty long ones."

"Let me see," Beckett told him. They leaned over Beckett's desk, head to head as Castle circled the calls. Beckett used her NYPD ap to put names to the numbers. One belonged to Barbara Jorgensen, Luke's stepdaughter, the other to a Thomas Boardman. Both numbers shared a single address, not far from Paisley O'Shea.

Beckett and Castle looked at each other and Castle grinned. "Road trip," they said in perfect synchronicity. The trip to Connecticut took considerably longer than the first one had as not all of the roads had been cleared of snow. Castle enjoyed it, singing along with the radio and basking in Sorenson's absence. Beckett finally pulled up to a small house in a neighborhood that screamed students. Trashcans along the block were piled with beer cans and maintenance looked to be minimal at best. Beckett rang the bell.

The door was answered a slim brunette with shadowed eyes. "Ms. Jorgensen?" Beckett asked. The girl nodded. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett and this is Richard Castle. I'm very sorry for your loss, but I need to ask you some questions about your stepfather."

Barbara beckoned Beckett and Castle inside and indicated that they should sit on the couch. Barbara pulled a book bag from a chair and sat opposite them. "Ms. Jorgenson," Beckett asked, "does a Thomas Boardman live here?"

"Yes," Barbara answered."Tommy is my boyfriend. Why?"

"We found a number of calls to your stepfather from here. Many of them were from you, but a number of them were from Mr. Boardman," Beckett replied. "Do you have any idea what those calls were about?"

"Yes," Barbara told Beckett. "Tommy is graduating this year. He's a writer. He wanted my stepfather to give him a job. Tommy was sending him scripts."

"I broke into writing from college," Castle told her, "I'm curious. How was Thomas doing?"

"Dad, my stepfather, thought he had a way to go. He suggested graduate school."

"Wow," Castle said, "that could sting. How did Thomas take it?"

"I don't understand why you need to know," Barbara said.

"We need to check on everything," Beckett told her. "So how did Thomas feel about your stepfather's suggestion."

"He was a little hurt, but he got over it. He was applying for some fellowships. He was going to use Dad as a reference."

The front door opened. "Babe, I thought I'd order a pizza and we could..." Thomas saw Beckett and Castle and sent a questioning look to Barbara."

"Tommy," Barbara told him, "this is Detective Beckett and Richard Castle. They're investigating Dad's murder."

Boardman bolted for the door and jumped in a beat up Toyota Corolla. By the time Beckett and Castle made it to Beckett's car, Boardman was out of sight.

Barbara's eyes were wide and her hands trembled. Beckett sat her down and Castle got her a glass of water. "I don't understand why he took off like that," she said. "He couldn't have... Could he?"

"Do you know his license plate number?" Beckett asked.

Barbara nodded. "It's a personalized plate, RITR."

Beckett called the Connecticut State Troopers to put a Bolo out on the car. "Barbara, this is very important," Beckett told her. "Did Thomas know the door code to your stepfather's apartment?"

Barbara nodded. "He did. The whole badge thing was a joke. We talked about it. Oh my God!" Barbara sobbed into her hands.

"Barbara, I'm sorry, but we need to take you to the city to get your statement. Head down, Barbara followed Beckett to the car, where Castle helped her into the front seat, folding himself into the back. Before they left, Beckett got Barbara's permission to take a sample of the soil under the snow near the front door.

* * *

Barbara was settled in the interrogation lounge with a cup of Castle's best decaf coffee while Beckett awaited word on Thomas Boardman. Esposito delivered the soil sample to CSU. The day dragged on and Beckett and Castle brought Barbara to stay the night with Greta Jorgensen before returning to the loft.

"You've been uncharacteristically quiet, Castle," Kate said.

"I was just thinking, what happens if Alexis gets some aspiring writer as a boyfriend and I hate his stuff?"

"Well you could always send him to Black Pawn and let Gina be the villain. I'm sure she's good at that."

"At criticism, she excels," Castle agreed. "But I wouldn't want anyone to try to kill her even if I would save a fortune in alimony. I'm not ready to break in a new publisher. I think I'd just take him to my poker game and let the other writers take him down."

"Like you did to Alex Conrad?" Kate asked.

"Alex is fine," Castle told her. "His hazing actually improved his next book. Any writer who can't take rejection shouldn't be a writer. I've had plenty of it."

Kate put her arms around Rick's neck. "Well you won't get it here," she said. "I'm a one writer girl."

"No," Rick told her, "you are definitely a one writer woman."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The sunlight was bright even behind the closed lids of their eyes. Rick's lashes lifted slowly as he used his hand as a shade. "What time is it?" Kate asked.

Rick consulted his watch, often on his wrist even while asleep. "Almost eight," he replied.

Kate grabbed her phone looking for missed messages or voice mails. There were none. "I can't believe we haven't got any results back from CSU yet. How hard can it be to compare dirt?"

"They're probably backed up," Rick told her. "You want me to call the mayor?"

Kate laughed. "No. I think you can leave His Honor alone, at least until poker night. We still don't have Boardman anyway, but we should get into the precinct in case something pops. Can you start the coffee? I want to grab a shower."

Kate was coming to full awareness under the needle spray when the glass door slid open. I brought your coffee," Rick said, extending a heart topped cup.

"Can you leave it?" Kate asked. "I'm not quite done."

"I could wash your back," Rick offered, slipping off his robe, "or your front."

Kate put a hand in the middle of his broad chest. "We need to get to work."

"We shower together, we'll get there faster," Rick argued. "Promise.

Kate rolled her eyes, "I bet," she said.

Rick was true to his word, building a lather with a nylon puff and spreading the bubbles on her skin. Kate soaped him as well and they turned both nozzles up to full blast to rinse off. As Kate stepped out, Rick caught her in hes arms for a deep and very wet kiss. "We'll pick this up after work," he told her.

Kate returned the kiss, smoothing the wet locks back from his forehead. "I'm counting on it."

The coffee was cold, with no time to make fresh, so Rick nuked the cups and poured the contents into travel mugs before he and Kate left the loft.

* * *

On the way to the 12th, Beckett got a text. CSU had completed their work. The dirt sample from outside the home of Barbara Jorgensen and Thomas Boardman was a match to that found at the murder scene.

Beckett pulled everything she could on Thomas Boardman. He only had one credit card, which showed no recent usage. He did have a debit card, which showed a withdrawal from a bank not far from his home, soon after he had fled. He had taken the maximum, several hundred dollars, which gave him traveling money. "I'm surprised he had that kind of money," Castle commented. "When I was in college, at least before I sold 'In a Hail of Bullets,' I usually had about five bucks in my account, if that."

Beckett nodded. "Let's see where he got it."

Head to head, Beckett and Castle perused Boardman's bank records. There was a large deposit by wire transfer a few days before Luke Spinelli's murder and another one right after after it. Their eyes met as they raised their heads. "Someone paid him to kill Luke Spinelli!" they exclaimed together.

Castle began to use the skills at tracing money transfers that he had learned so well during the investigation of the murder of Johanna Beckett. The money had come from an account in the Cayman Islands. The trail ended there. "We need to get it out of Boardman," Beckett said, when Castle reported his results. "Let's talk to Barbara again. Maybe she can remember someplace he's mentioned that he might go. She was going to stay at the Spinelli apartment."

* * *

Beckett put a finger to her lips and motioned Castle to stay back while she pulled her gun. The door to the Spinelli apartment was unlocked and stood open a crack. Beckett kicked the door open, pointing her weapon at a knife wielding Thomas Boardman. "Drop it!" Beckett yelled.

Boardman grabbed Barbara to use as a shield, but she pressed hard on a nerve center between his knuckles, forcing him to open his hand and drop the knife, while she pulled away. Beckett knocked Boardman to the ground and cuffed him. "Wow, nice move!" Castle told Barbara admiringly.

Barbara gave a weak smile. "When your parents write a cop show, you pick up a few things."

"What happened?' Beckett asked.

"We did change the code on the door, but I was expecting a delivery and I opened the door. He wanted me to help him get away. He knew his cards would be tagged."

A young man with a square insulated carrier gave a light knock on the open door. "Anyone order a pizza?

* * *

Boardman sat in the box sweating under Beckett's cuffs. He sat opposite Beckett, Castle and Esposito, who had been added for an additional intimidation factor. "This is the way it is, Tommy," Beckett told him. We have you for murder. The dirt on your shoes matches dirt found at the murder scene. We have Barbara's statement. There is only one way you can help yourself. Give us the name of the person who hired you and I'll put the D.A. In the mood for a deal."

"I want a lawyer," Boardman told her.

Esposito stood and glared down at Boardman. "This is a limited time offer, man."

"I want a lawyer, "Boardman repeated.

"Fine," Beckett told him. "You can wait for Legal Aid in holding."

* * *

"You want to get something to eat while Boardman waits for his lawyer?" Castle asked Beckett. "We never did get breakfast, or lunch."

"You were casting a longing look at that pizza," Beckett teased. "Remy's?"

"No." Castle said. "There's a new one I want to check out."

Beckett looked at the sign over the door. "Rebels? She asked.

"Yeah," Castle told her. "It's a themed restaurant based on 'Rebel Ship.' I found it when I was doing research for the case."

The walls were covered with pictures of Jean-Luc St. Jacques as Captain Summers and other members of the crew, as well as a picture of Jonas Hill in a mini shrine emblazoned with "Our Ultimate Commander." A rack by the register was filled with "Rebel Ship" comic books and shelves were filled with knitted "Rebel Ship" hats, t-shirts, and other themed merchandise. Several of the patrons were costumed.

A hostess dressed as the ship's engineer showed Castle and Beckett to their table. "Did anyone ever tell you you look a little like Jean-Luc St. Jacques?" she asked. "Older, of course."

Beckett hid her smile behind her hand.

"This is getting old," Castle griped.

The food was mostly made of shaped protein, but well spiced, especially with rosemary, and there were fresh strawberries for dessert.

"That was different," Beckett said as they returned to the precinct.

"It we ever go again, we need to do cosplay," Castle suggested. "You'd look good as the courtesan."

"I think we can save that one for home," Beckett replied.

Castle grinned at his mental picture. "Nice!"

* * *

Apparently the crime rate, after falling during the heavy snow, had been high that day. Legal Aid was short on lawyers and one had yet to see Thomas Boardman. Beckett filled in the time by writing her report. She gave up waiting for the lawyer at nine o'clock and she and Castle returned to the loft.

Rick sat on the couch and Kate sat on a pillow on the floor between his legs as he massaged her neck and shoulders. "Your muscles are all in knots," Rick said. "Anything wrong?"

"No," Kate told him. "I get stiff when I have to sit at my desk too long, especially writing reports."

"You want a hot bath?" Rick asked.

"I think," Kate murmured, running her fingers down Rick's leg, "we had some unfinished business from this morning."

"I was hoping you'd remember that," Rick said. "You feel up to it"

Kate climbed into Rick's lap. "Never better."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A series of loud pops rent the air. Dragged from sleep, Kate reached for her gun, hitting the floor in a crouch.

Seeing no immediate threat, she gradually relaxed, laying her gun aside and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Kate, what's wrong?" Rick asked, sitting up against the backboard.

"I thought there were gunshots," Kate answered, "But there isn't anything. I must have been dreaming."

"You weren't dreaming," Rick told her. "It's Chinese New Year. Someone was probably setting off fireworks."

Kate shook her head with a wry smile. "Of course, I forgot."

Rick smiled back. "Well it's good to know that you're always vigilant and here to protect me."

"Yeah," Kate retorted, her suddenly busy fingers tickling the sensitive skin on his ribs, "who's going to protect you from me?"

"I'll just have to use my manly strength," Rick told her, laughing and flipping her body beneath him. Rick looked into Kate's mirth filled eyes and the laughter died in his throat, suddenly overcome by the intensity of pure love. As his fingers reached deep into her hair, his lips met hers. Kate's hands were at the side of Rick's face as she returned the kiss, caressed by the heat emanating from the body covering and surrounding hers. Kate wasn't quite sure where she ended and Rick began. They were one, their joining natural and inevitable, complete in each others' arms.

* * *

Legal Aid had finally come through with a lawyer for Thomas Boardman, one Dewey Tarcher. Beckett stared at Boardman and Tarcher across the table. "My offer hasn't changed," she said. "I have enough to put Thomas away for life. If he gives me whoever hired him, I'll talk to the D.A. About a deal."

"Detective," Tarcher said, "I'd like to have a little conference with my client. Please leave us for a few minutes and turn the microphones off."

The attorney and his client were left alone while Castle made fresh coffees. After they drained their cups, Beckett and Castle returned to the box. "What's your decision?" Beckett asked.

"We need more than your assurances, Detective," Tarcher told her. "Get a D.A. In here. When we have a signed deal, my client will give you the information you want."

"Fine," Beckett said, shaking her head in disgust. Followed by Castle, she left the box once again to knock on the door of the office of Captain Gates. Gates was not pleased at the thought of talking to A.D.A. Toni Gonzalez, but she made the call.

As Beckett and Castle looked on and Gates watched from observation, a cold eyed A.D.A. Gonzalez stared at Dewey Tarcher. "You understand, she said, "that if any, any information your client gives us proves to be incorrect, this deal will be null and void. Your client will face trial for first degree murder with special circumstances. He will spend the rest of his life in prison, and not a comfortable prison."

Tarcher looked at Boardman, who nodded.

"It was Harmon Hoban," Boardman said. "I went to him for a job after that S.O.B. Spinelli turned me down. He told me that he'd hire me for his new show, but only if Spinelli was out of the picture. His network was planning to pit the show against Next Chapter and he knew that he couldn't compete with Spinelli at the helm. Hoban knew I was with Barbara and could get close to her stepfather. The deal was he'd pay me for taking Spinelli out and I'd have a long term contract with his production company."

"Lock this down. Detective," Gates told Beckett as she left the interrogation. Get Hoban's financials and anything else you need to make sure Boardman is telling the truth."

"I will sir," Beckett assured her.

As a producer, Hoban's financials, emails, and phone records were mountainous. Beckett enlisted the aid of Ryan and Esposito as well as Castle to wade through the morass. "What are we looking for?" Ryan asked.

"Boardman was paid from an account in the Cayman Islands." Beckett told him. "If we can connect Hoban to that account. We have him. We also want any calls, texts, or emails between Boardman and Hoban. We need to make the relationship solid."

Due to the shear volume of reading required, Castle volunteered his speed reading skills for looking at emails. Esposito and Ryan took financials and Beckett searched the phone records. As the work stretched into the night, Castle bought out a large portion of the food on the comfort truck to feed the hungry, bleary-eyed researchers. "Yo guys, I've got it," Esposito announced around midnight. This is one of Hoban's business accounts. It's the same number as the one Boardman got his money transfers from."

"That's it!" Beckett agreed. "We've got him. Let's break for the night. I'll check in with Toni Gonzalez in the morning and see if she's ready to move."

"Great!" Ryan responded. I was afraid my daughter would forget what I look like." He put a hand on Esposito's shoulder. "Thanks bro."

Rick and Kate dragged themselves to the loft. Undressing was almost too much effort. Rick helped Kate pull her boots off, an activity that under other circumstances might have led to more energetic things, but not then. With most of their clothes still on the floor, Kate slipped into a sleep shirt and Rick kept his t-shirt and shorts. Kate had barely settled into Ricks arms to spoon for what was left of the night, when they were both sound asleep.

The morning came way too soon. Beckett and Castle arrived at the precinct, third cups of coffee in hand. Awaiting a response from Toni Gonzalez, they made it four, but when Beckett received the warrant for Hoban's arrest, she and Castle were wide awake.

The team found Hoban in his office at Bailey Studios. Beckett cuffed him and read him his rights as several writers looked on, making notes for future reference. Cell phone cameras clicked as Hoban was led to a waiting blue and white.

* * *

Tasha Olesky as Lovett gazed at the triple reflection of herself in a wedding dress with a look of consternation. "I can't wear this," she told the ersatz sales woman. "My hips won't even fit through the door. Can't we find something with some slink?"

"I think she's right," Kate commented, gazing at the screen. "She'd look beautiful in a dress that fits in all the right places. I never used to think about it, but I really want to look beautiful for our wedding. I hope my dress is the right one."

"You would look beautiful in a potato sack," Rick told her.

"That's sweet," Kate said, "but I want something that will make you drag me away from the reception because you can't wait to tear it off me."

"If that's the case," Rick whispered throatily, kissing Kate's neck and pulling at the top of her mismatched sweats, "you can get married in what you're wearing now."

Finis

A/N That's it for Jean-Luc and Tasha, at least for now. They might be fun in a future story. My next story will be something different. I was watching Probable Cause, again, and I realized that there was a way for Castle to prove that the surveillance video had been tampered with. The story, Foiling the Frame, will start from there. Obviously it will be AU. Thank you so much for all the reviews, even the ones with gripes. I really do pay attention to what you say. There have been some conflicting ideas, especially on the matter of whether Kate and Rick should have more or less sex. Let me know what you think. Love, Sally


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